A Navigation in Mahogany
The cat’s collar strikes a dissonant tune with the water bowl
chiming six hours until time stops.
My sock catches on a lone nail jutting out of the floorboards
a jagged tooth.
The house sighs a hot mahogany-laced breath
sending the dust collecting on its window sills
spilling into hallways strangled with what was.
Yet I can dance across the eraser shavings stuck in the carpet
for the hour is mine.
And the walls stop breathing.
Scott Hicks has work published in Contemporary Haibun Online, Road Not Taken, Poetry Quarterly, Three Line Poetry, Modern Haiku, Shot Glass, Liquid Imagination, and Down in the Dirt. He came to poetry through therapy and lives in Fresno, California.